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WEEK OF JUNE 29

by Steven Kent

“Trump acknowledges ‘real problems’ at reflecting pool after $14M makeover, blaming ‘vandalism'”
—The Guardian

The work of vandals,
This new hue!
In terms of scandals,
It’s true-blue.

Transparent lies,
Though, serve his plan
Since now our eyes
Are off Iran.

by Michael Calvert

With apologies to Christopher Marlowe

“Anti-vaxxers are coupling up on apps for ‘Unjected’ singles. Dating apps are pairing unvaccinated people across the country — and in some cases hosting controversial in-person events.”
—The Washington Post

Go out with me, and be my date,
And we will all our germs conflate.
Together we will get the flu,
Pertussis, mumps, and Covid too.

Our love will grow and thrive as we
Contract the Heps from A to C.
We’re free and proud “unjected” singles,
Undaunted by the risk of shingles.

You’ll be my gal, and I your fella,
When we are stricken with rubella.
And when we’re ill, we’ll stick to courses
Of drugs we use to cure our horses.

We aren’t like the common herd;
We both think science is absurd.
And never would we take a jab
Of something cooked up in a lab.

There’s nothing makes me more desirous
Than Russian Roulette with a virus;
And I might add that when we met
It wasn’t flu that made me sweat.

I’m certain you and I will click,
We’re both averse to needles—ick!
We’ll get along infectiously,
If you’ll go on a date with me.

by Steven Kent

“Scores Fall Ill at Air Force Base After Hegseth Makes Flu Vaccine Optional”
—The New York Times

Now “bodily autonomy” is Hegseth’s hobby horse
(Though not for pregnant women and transgender folk, of course).
A viral outbreak’s no concern for this self-styled chad
Who longs to lead our forces all the way to Gilead.

by Mike Mesterton-Gibbons

So long, farewell, Keir Starmer, failed First Lord
Of Britain’s Treasury. Your fraught two years,
Less thirteen days, in office underscored
Outstanding technocratic skill appears
Not helpful as PM. Your promise—we’d
Get change—was good: you’re quite beyond compare
For U-turns. But you droned, and couldn’t read
A room like Andy B, whose jaunty air
Replaces your solemnity, and you
Erred most by taking charge beneath Big Ben
Without a plan we’d buy—just like the new
Executive-in-chief at Number Ten …
Long tenure, Andy B? Don’t undersell—
Lest, two years hence, you hear: So long, farewell!

by Marshall Begel

“China says ‘spy turtles’ and ‘spy fish’ deployed by foreign intelligence agencies snooping in its waters”
—CBS

We spies know the business is fraught
with limitless ways to get caught,
where steel-headed rookie cadets
get hauled up in pitiful nets.

I, too, fell for devious bait—
a spinning jig settled my fate.
So now, I’m detained as a spy
who’s probably going to fry.